


Social Studies

by cygnaut



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Charles You Will Be Drunk, Fluff, Gen, Kidfic, No Beach Divorce, Purim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 11:05:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cygnaut/pseuds/cygnaut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Purim at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Social Studies

**Author's Note:**

> Set in a vague no-divorce AU land of fluff and happiness. Thanks to [afrocurl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/afrocurl) for the quick late night beta!

Erik finds Charles in his study buried under a pile of half-marked tests and incomplete lesson plans.

“Are you working on social studies?” he asks, watching as Charles applies a blue smiley face sticker next to one of Jean’s answers.

“No, I’m still grading the quizzes from Wednesday’s English lesson. Scott wrote a completely absurd amount despite the fact that I told them it wasn’t meant to be comprehensive.”

“You know how he gets. He was probably trying to regurgitate your entire lecture word-for-word.”

“He very nearly managed,” Charles says, holding up a sheaf of notebook paper stapled together. “I should have known something was wrong when he asked if he could use extra sheets of paper.”

“So, about social studies…” Erik says, determined not to lose his only segue.

“Hm?” Charles asks, frowning at a coffee stain on the back of one of Scott’s pages.

“I was looking at Unit 4, and I had an idea.”

“Is that the one on geography?”

“No, religion.”

“Oh?” Charles asks, looking at him with more focus now.

“So, I know I vetoed you on the menorah a few months ago, but I was thinking… What if maybe as part of the ‘recognizing and celebrating religious differences’ objective… Well, what if the kids helped me celebrate something?”

“Oh!” Charles says, putting down his pen. “Sure!"

“Purim is coming up.”

Charles nods eagerly. “I think that’s a great idea.”

Erik waits a beat, but Charles just continues to look at him with a vague sort of pleased expression. “You have no idea what Purim is, do you?”

Charles eyes slide away, looking to the side. “Of course I do, it’s the, uh, the one with the… uh…”

Erik raises his eyebrows, waiting.

“The cookies?” Charles asks, looking hopeful.

“Good guess.”

“Thanks. Fine, great. It will be a learning experience for all of us gentiles.”

 

\---

 

On the night of, Erik keeps it pretty simple. He waits to mention the part about costumes and shpiels until _after_ they’ve finished going over the basic outline of the Book of Esther and the important parts about charity and triumphing over genocidal community threats. He doesn’t skimp on the violent retribution details either, and they all agree it’s an excellent basis for a holiday.   

As soon as he mentions that holding a play is a common tradition the younger kids announce that _they_ need to do a play. Tonight. The girls are naturally theatrical, and love any excuse to play dress up. Scott tends to pretend that he’s only playing along for Ororo, but he always seems to enjoy himself when he gets drafted into one of their games. And all three of them already have an outfit picked out for when they become real grownup X-Men.

Ororo comes out of her room with a bed sheet twisted around her torso and then draped over her head like a veil. “It’s a tuna,” she explains when Erik asks.

“A toga?"

“No, _Romans_ wear togas. This is a Persian tuna.”

“A tunic?”

“Yes, that. Like in the drawings!”

Erik is pretty sure that the illustrations he found weren’t striving for historical accuracy so much as a general orientalist vibe, but then historical accuracy isn’t really the point. “It’s lovely,” he tells her and Ororo preens.

Jean makes use of several towels for a similar get up, and puts on every piece of jewelry she owns. Scott, for his part, reappears in an actual tunic shirt. It’s a ridiculous embroidered hippy thing that Erik has never seen before.

“Where did you get _that_?” he asks.

“The professor gave it to me,” Scott says, adjusting the belt around his waist. The shirt has way too much fabric for his skinny frame and the collar keeps threatening to slide down one of his shoulders. “And the belt’s my brother's.”

“Wow.”

Erik can’t pass up this opportunity to mock Charles’ embarrassing secret wardrobe options. He finds him folding a paper hat out of newspaper that looks more like a boat than an ancient Persian headdress. “You never told me about the time you joined a commune.”

“What?” Charles asks, putting the hat on his head and examining his reflection. It looks absurd.

“That shirt you gave Scott. I can’t think why you would own it unless you were once part of some free love commune.”

“Well, the free love part does sound appealing,” he says, frowning as the hat slides down over his eyes. “But I’m afraid I actually purchased that monstrosity of my own initiative.”

“You mean you _wore_ that thing?”

“Not particularly often, but yes. Oxford was a strange time for me.”

“You wore that in _grad school_? I didn’t even know they were in fashion then.”

“They weren’t,” Charles says, adjusting his hat again.

When they all reunite in the dinning room, Ororo and Jean get in a fight over who gets to be Esther, and Erik has to pull them apart, snapping “Does this seem like it’s in the spirit of Purim to you?” After some further squabbling, Erik makes Raven into Esther, and Ororo and Jean are demoted to handmaidens/noisemaker operators.

They make Charles draw a huge threatening mustache on his face with eyebrow pencil. Erik secretly finds it rather fetching.

“Why do I have to be the villain?” Charles complains, his hat slipping down over his eyes again.

“Scott didn’t want a speaking part, and Erik is already Mordechai,” Raven says.

“But why can’t I be the drunken king?” Charles persists. 

“Sean called dibs.”

“Hey,” Ororo says, looking up from the noisemaker she’s constructing out of a paper cup and beads. “Mr. Lehnsherr, where’s your costume?”

“I’m wearing my cape,” Erik says, turning and pointing to his shoulders.

“That doesn’t count, you wear your cape all the time!”

They make him wrap a sheet around his waist for robes and Jean gives him several necklaces as accessories. Charles also folds him a paper hat which won’t stay put no matter how many times Erik adjusts it.  

The shpiel goes very well considering that they didn’t bother to practice and don’t have any actual audience members besides the actors who aren’t currently on stage. They set up the “stage” on one end of the front parlor with a blanket hung on one side to hide the props and facilitate quick costume changes. Hank acts as the narrator and manages to keep things moving at a fast clip in light of certain people’s short attention spans.

Near the middle, one of Esther’s handmaidens trips on the edge of her tunic and falls over, dragging the other handmaiden down to the floor with her. Thankfully, Erik is on stage to intervene and Charles orders them to stop fighting in the king’s audience chamber.   

They even manage to fit in a couple of political jokes. When Sean has insomnia he asks for someone to read to him from the mutant registration scrolls, and at one point Erik “accidentally” calls Charles “Senator Kelly.” Jean and Ororo shake their noisemakers anyway.

The climactic scene is really the best one, with Raven dramatically throwing her cardboard scepter at Charles’ head when she announces that she’s Jewish and Haman has been plotting against her people. Charles’ paper hat goes flying and the feast-goers all shout in excitement while both of the handmaidens fall down in a dead faint. 

Charles looks vaguely put out by being stabbed (the gallows had been rejected as too technically complicated and prone to fatal mishaps), but he wails and kicks his feet appropriately once he falls to the ground. Sean, Alex and Scott stand in for Haman’s ten sons and submit to being jumped on by a triumphant Ororo. 

They finish the night by going through the mansion’s voluminous pantry in search of canned goods to take to the food bank the next day. Ororo and Jean make little bow to attach to each can for some reason Erik can’t fathom, but the end result is admittedly very festive.

“I like Purim,” Charles says, taking off his hat after the younger children have been put to bed and the older ones have gone off to celebrate on their own. 

“Good! Because we’re not done.”

“We’re not?”

“Did I forget to mention the religious obligation to get roaring drunk?” 

“This is my favorite holiday,” Charles says. “We’re celebrating again next year. Now come on, let’s go raid the liquor cabinet before the older kids get there first.”


End file.
